


How To Train Your Demon

by OneOddKitteh



Series: Vivant Avec Un Démon [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bonding, Crack, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon!Dean, Domestic, Holy Water, Humor, Men of Letters Bunker, Spray bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneOddKitteh/pseuds/OneOddKitteh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in between tired research, cat videos, and badly animated abstract humour sites on the weird side of the internet, Sam found an idea. When implemented, it was both as hilarious and productive as he'd expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Train Your Demon

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by that one post

Staring at his screen, eyes held open by sheer force of will, Sam cursed his brother. Metallica was blasting through the walls of the bunker. It was three am. Dean had been drinking, again, and decided that music was the way to fix whatever he was thinking. Sam was trying to research a possible hunt a few cities over. He clicked on a random link on the webpage full of missing persons reports from this one particular city, and was almost unsurprised at the filmed testimony of a witness being on youtube.

Of course, the videos in the sidebar were completely unrelated, but a few looked kind of interesting. Before Sam knew it, he’d stumbled through musical numbers and nature documentaries and this one student film that made him feel like he was high out of his mind. Then, he hit the holy grail of videos. ’5 hours of me training my 3 yr old cat with a spray bottle.’ ‘who says old dogs can’t learn new tricks? they probbly can’t, but my cat can! :3’

He _had_ to watch it.

 

Sam had barely been awake when he got the idea, but it was working, and it was brilliant. Sam sat back, one eye on the TV, and the other one Dean. His brother thought he was being sneaky, one hand inching closer to the alcohol cabinet. Leaving him in a trap there hadn’t actually stopped him drinking all of their whiskey, but Sam had been trying something new. Dean’s hand touched the handle, and Sam was up off the couch before his brother could jerk his hand away. The bottle made a satisfying ‘sqrshhh’ sound when Sam squeezed the trigger.

“Fuck!” Dean yelped, voice jumping several octaves higher than usual. “Ow! Shit!”

“Have coffee instead,” Sam ordered, lowering the spray bottle of holy water.

Dean stared at him, affronted.

“Dude, I’m a demon, it’s not like my liver’s gonna fail,” he said, reaching back to the cabinet.

Sam squirted him in the face, and used the ensuing pain to drag him into the kitchen, where he started to make Dean coffee.

“You’ll thank me when Cas can kiss you without asking you to brush your teeth,” he said matter of factly.

He leaned back against the bench while Dean rubbed furiously at his eyes. Dean grumbled, but accepted his drink.

 

“How did you do it?” Cas asked, appearing directly in front of Sam. “He hasn’t had more than a beer in a week, Sam. It’s doesn’t taste like decay anymore!”

Cas’ whole body was twitching with excitement, as if waiting for Sam to tell him he’d used a complex pagan ritual to bewitch his brother. Sam smirked, and pulled up a new tab, quickly searching ‘training your cat with a spray bottle.’

“Here,” he said, patting the couch next to him. “Look at this.”

 

“Dude, look at her!” Dean said, staring at their server walking back to the counter. “She has to spend workouts specifically working on that ass.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and glanced over at Sam, who cringed a little, and shrugged. He’d been staring at people walking past the window, and Dean’s godawful comment pulled him out of a contented daydream. Castiel looked back at Dean, still checking out the waitress, and lifted up a little spray bottle from under the table.

‘Sprshhht.’

“Ow, what the hell?” Dean spat, hands scrubbing at his steaming face.

“Women are not sexual objects, Dean,” Cas replied, eyes twinkling at Sam.

Dean glared at his brother, eyes a little bloodshot, before they flicked black. He stood up, thumping his hands on the table.

“YOU TOLD HIM ABOUT THE SPRAYBOTTLE.”

The entire diner was staring at them. Cas lifted up the  spray bottle and aimed it at Dean’s face.

“Sit down,” he said, tone dry as dry.

Dean sat, bottom lip jutting in a spectacular pout that put Castiel’s puppy dog face to shame.

“You’re an asshole,” he said to Sam, shredding a napkin. “I hate you both.”

Sam couldn’t see under the table, but going by the way Dean’s shoulders suddenly went rigid, Cas had done something very distracting. Sam went back to looking out the window, and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> i cna't see the screens past blurry eye, that's how late it is right nowfor me


End file.
